


Mando Drabbles

by diindjariin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gloved Fingering, Squirting, Vaginal Fingering, WARNING: pedro pascal's hAnDS, is that even a tag aha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diindjariin/pseuds/diindjariin
Summary: this is where my drabbles from tumblr live. some are nsfw, some are not.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 137





	1. squirting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> asked on tumblr: hc that mando comes back in to you in a hurry, all worked up from his latest skirmish with death, and is in such a rush to see you and feel you that he fingers you... wait for it... with the gloves on

You’ve seen his hands, many times in fact. They’re big, veins a light green color under the skin, and calloused. A gorgeous tan color that looks sun-kissed despite the rarity in which he removes them. You’ve stared at those hands often, using them as a guidebook for how the rest of him must look. Warm and masculine and handsome, too. You imagine that, for a face to accompany those hands, he must be ruggedly good-looking with thick hair on his face to match what you’ve already seen below.

If you were to pinpoint when your relationship became romantic, you’d say it was around the time Din helped break that Twi’lek out of prison. You’d seen him fight before, dozens of times, but that was the first time you’d seen him fight like a warrior. he’s quick and confidant and exudes an energy that you’re irrevocably attracted to. You’ve cared for him romantically for quite some time, but you didn’t get the impression he felt the same until that day. After dropping the Twi’lek off and getting as far away from that star system as possible, Din fiddles with the controls, checking diagnostics and flipping switches.

“I wish you didn’t have to see that,” he says. He doesn’t follow up with what exactly he wishes you hadn’t seen, but you know him well enough to get his point.

“Me too,” you say, fiddling with the hem of your dress. “But I knew what I was getting into when I joined you.” At this he stops, right hand hovering over the console. He helmet dips in your direction slightly and you know, now, he’s looking at you.

“Did you?” There’s desperation in his voice, sadness, and a little bit of pity. His tone makes you sigh, makes you wish he didn’t wear a helmet so you could wrap your arms around his neck and plant a kiss on his mouth. 

“I knew I wanted to be with you,” you say with confidence, “the rest is all collateral.” 

He turns fully toward you now. There’s a slump in his shoulders that you haven’t seen in months and despite his lack of facial expression he looks sad. A weary kind that tugs at your heart in an uncomfortable way. You know this has to do with his backup specifically, know there’s history there that he wishes stayed buried.

He raises his right hand and peels off his glove. Slowly, as if he’s afraid you’ll reject it, he inches his hand to your face. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear and holds it there, then slides his hand to cup your cheek. For someone who cannot kiss this is as intimate as it gets without the actual act of sex. He’s never done something so bold and your breath catches, letting an audible gasp escape.

So, yes, you’ve thought about his hands. You’ve thought about them a lot, as they feature as an important part in developing your relationship. If he’d never done that… you’re sure the two of you would still be pining after one another, both unaware of the love that’s shared. You have yet to actually have sex, but Din has allowed you to taste his pleasure more than once, and you’re sure he’s made you cum double that amount.

But now… now, you’re tired. You’re tired and you’re worried and you’re thinking about the first time Din had held you like you meant something, at least the first time that didn’t involve any danger. Din’s been gone longer than you expected; he didn’t even bother getting a room and staying in town, insisting that this bounty would be quick and easy. It’s been hours and you’re thinking about maybe going out there and looking for him, wondering about the logistics with the kid until the hatch starts to open and he appears.

He’s dragging a man by his ankle that’s clearly dead, no life left in his pliant body. Din doesn’t say a word to you, brushing by so he can lift the body into the carbonite freezer. He does this with precision, calculation, and as he works you realize that his hands are shaking.

“Din?” You try his name in the dark. He doesn’t respond, but his shoulders instinctively tighten at the sound of your voice. You approach him slowly, not out of fear but in an attempt not to violate his personal space. “What’s wrong?”

“They know about you,” he says tightly. His body, which is already incredible stiff, stiffens more. “The bounty isn’t just me and the Child. It’s you, too.” His focus is solely on the bounty in front of him and he doesn’t look back at you.

“We knew this was bound to happen,” you say in an attempt to alleviate his stress. At this he turns, the bounty locked securely in carbonite. He rushes at you until you have no choice but to back into the wall, his palms slapping against the metal and blockading against his body.

“He said he had you,” Din says, hands moving down the wall near your head to stop near your hips, “he said… you were worth more dead than alive. I knew he was lying but I need to feel you.” By now, his hands are rigid against your hips, right hand rubbing circles into the meat of your thigh. “Can I?”

You nod, breathless, sure that your pupils are huge. He wastes no time getting a hand underneath your skirt, pulling your panties down your legs. He takes a cursory swipe against your slit and finds little wetness there so he brings his hand, still gloved, to your mouth and says “Suck.”

You allow his fingers into your mouth. The leather tastes like him, in a way. Rich and masculine, engine fuel and the forest. Once they’re nice and wet he removed his hand and brings it back between your legs.

His fingers have always been thick but with the gloves they’re thicker. He slides his middle finger into your pussy and you feel full already, letting your head fall forward onto his shoulder. He pumps his finger inside of you with more force than he usually does. The gloves give his finger a smoothness that his hands don’t have. You like the callouses on his hands, love how they catch on your walls and create delicious friction; but this is nice too. The smoothness makes it easier for him to pump fast and hard and as he does you feel a swelling in your cunt that you recognize and immediately sends you into panic mode. Your hands grab at his shoulders but he doesn’t understand, redoubling his efforts rather than stopping.

“Din, wait -” you try but he doesn’t seem to hear you. You have enough time to think I’m about to pee on the man I love while he finger fucks me when the feeling suddenly comes to a breaking point. But rather than pee, a clear liquid shoots out from your pussy with more force than you expected, coating Din’s hand and upper arm. You immediately feel weightless, knees shaking and you’re sure you would have fallen if not for Din catching you in his arms. You can feel your wetness on his hand on your bare arm.

He lowers you to the floor and you lay in his arms, breathing heavily, legs shaking. He pets your hair with his clean hand for several minutes while you come back to yourself. Finally he asks,

“I’ve never made you do that before.”

“I’ve never done that before,” you reply, smiling up at him in disbelief. Din cups your jaw with his wet hand, leans close to your ear and whispers,

“Want to see if I can make you do it again?”


	2. thigh riding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> asked on tumblr: lil bit nsfw but hc that mando likes it when you grind against his armored thigh

I approve this message.

Like, okay, but can you imagine? He had a close call, there’s a few scuffs on his new armor, and you’re terrified. He makes his way back to the ship and you’re there, waiting. He takes a seat and you rush at him, sitting in his lap so you can get a good look at him, make sure he’s okay.

And he is okay, mostly. Because almost getting himself seriously injured reminds him of how important you are, how you’d be left in the ship, alone. He wonders how long it would take for you to venture out of the ship with the child, looking for him. And maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the fear of losing you, but he rocks his thigh up into your crotch. You jump, surprised, not sure if it was deliberate or not until he does it again. He continues until you’re moaning, creating your own rhythm against his beskar-covered thigh.

“Can you… cum like this?” His voice is rough and dazed and a little amazed when you nod, throwing your head back and closing your eyes.

“I think so.”


	3. blindfold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> asked on tumblr: can u pls write something about the reader wearing a blindfold so mando can take off his helmet around her? lots of fluff pls :)

“You… want this?” Din sounds… unsure. Not opposed, not angry (like you feared he might be). He almost sounds shy.

“Yes,” you say, letting the silk move through your fingers like water. The fabric is a blood red color and contrasts beautifully against your skin. “I know it’s a bit of a loophole. I hope I haven’t offended you.” Din reaches his hand toward you and grasps your knee, squeezing it a bit.

“No,” he says and is silent for so long that you think he won’t accept your offer. But he rubs your knee with his index finger and continues, “I’ve never done this before.” His voice is soft and you can just barely hear him.

“We don’t have to, just because I asked. I only thought…”

“What?” You look away from him and say nothing. After several moments he grasps your chin, gentle but firm, and forces you to look at him. “What?”

“I want you to feel it. I want you to know what it feels like, physically, when somebody loves you.” His head snaps backward as if you’d physically shocked him. It isn’t the first time you’ve said it, but it’s the first time completely cognizant, awake and without shame. The words are deliberate and chosen, not rushed from pain or sleepiness. You know the last time someone has admitted their love for him was when he was a child. He’s said as much.

But this, you can give him. If he’s willing, you can press your lips to his and show him love. You can give him a new experience, be his first, in something positive for once in his life.

“If you’re not ready, that’s okay. If you’re never ready, that’s okay, too. I can live the rest of my life with your helmet on Din. I’m offering for you, not for me.” You hand him the silk sash and watch as he lets it slide from one hand to the other, holds it up to his visor. “I’m going to lie down. Come back when you’re done.” You press a kiss to the side of his helmet, grab the Child from his orb, and make your way back to the cot. You lie silently for around ten minutes, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if you’ve made a step in your relationship that was too far too early. Then you hear his footsteps.


End file.
